


The Question of an Heir

by gaytriangle



Series: My True Love Gave To Me... [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate (?) war of the five kings, Arguments, Canon Divergent, Canon Era, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, doesnt really matter tho, i guess?, shameless fluff, yall are here for the, yes both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytriangle/pseuds/gaytriangle
Summary: Theon knows Robb needs an heir. The Mormonts know he needs an heir. At this point, the Essosi have probably realised. Rob disagrees.





	The Question of an Heir

If Robb Stark had a castle for every time one of his advisors suggested a new consort (subtly, if you were a Manderly. Loudly, if you were an Umber), he’d be king from here to Valyria. Today, it was Maege Mormont. 

“You know I have five daughters, don’t you, Your Grace? Fine warriors and wives, all of them.” Her daughter Dacey, sitting on the other side of the table, snorted loudly. She was significantly less blind than most of the people in Robbs camp, her mother included. “Yes, Your Grace, once you’ve finished with seafood you can have a taste of some bear, ay?” She earned glares from her king and her mother, but neither had feeling. Robb had barely finished a somewhat graceless refusal and shoved them out of his solar when his favourite piece of seafood swung his legs up on the table beside him. 

“Does that make eight or ten this week, Your oh-so-graceful Grace?” Robb, like most days, resisted a powerful urge to throw something at his boyfriend. “Ten.” He replied instead. 

“I rather like those bears. They all hate me, of course, but Lyanna is fierce at nine name-days and I hear Alysane considers herself a skinchanger. You could do worse.” Theons tone was light and mocking, like it always was, but Robb could see the tension in his shoulders. He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his lips, only relenting when he could hear his boyfriend moan softly. 

“Why would I need a wife? I have you.” Robb pretended not to notice the sigh that shook Theons whole body at that, but thought that it could probably be heard up at the wall.

“If you leave a crippled boy in love with a frog eater, or one as wild as his wolf as your heir, the lords would never follow them. What’s your other choice? Sansa?” Theon adopted a high-pitched tone, clasping his hands together. “I decree that we shall all simply have to get on! Let us listen to the songs for guidance!” He levelled an exasperated stare Robbs way. 

“You’re not giving Sansa enough credit. Or my lords, for that matter.”  
“You’re giving them far too much! Is it so hard to lie back and think of Winterfell?”

“Yes!” Robb didn’t mean to shout, but this argument was well worn ground. He needed to say something new. “Yes, Theon, because there’s only room in my heart for one true love, and it would be an insult to Dacey or Alys or whoever they threw my way to pretend otherwise.” Ignoring his shock, Robb grabbed Theons hand and clasped it in his own, tight. “I am yours and you are mine, from this day until the end of my days. I will not do a disservice to my bannermen by making an unhappy wife, or my people by claiming a non-Stark heir. And I will not hurt you, by leaving you behind for them.”

Theon was silent for a long moment. He was completely still, for once in his life, and Robb was suddenly struck with the irrational thought that maybe he had taken too many liberties, that Theons feelings were not as deep as his were. For Robb, this was it. His one great love. He was so lost in his misgivings, he failed to notice Theons face assemble itself into a resigned one. 

“You’re sure you won’t take a Mormont, and have an heir from bear?” His tone was the kind of dead serious the kraken rarely revealed himself as capable of. 

“Beyond certain,” Robb replied, all of his impulsiveness replaced with certainty. 

“Well, then,” said Theon, and both of their faces were matching masks of apprehension and determination, “fuck the lords, I suppose.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while slightly pissed but it’s still not the worst one in this fic list tbh


End file.
